Review: Blink (Kings Head Theatre)

Blink was written by Phil Porter in 2012, and described on the Kings Head Theatre website as A bittersweet rom-com for the digital age. The full synopsis hinted at the fact that it was more complex than that this, so I was delighted to be invited to attend on Press Night to discover what this show was about.

Produced by Metal Rabbit Productions, Blink is a two hander, where the actors take on minor roles as well as their own primary role. Initially, the fourth wall seems to be completely missing as one character in particular opens the show by talking directly to audience members whist holding intense eye contact.  There’s a lot of this gaze holding from both main characters, which leads you to feel more connected with them once you get used to this format. I found myself (a confirmed introvert) going from thinking thank goodness I’m not in THAT seat to holding eye contact for a sustained period with one of the characters and it feeling like it enhanced my experience of the show. The direction (Simon Paris) ensures you are fully involved with watching the characters as much as they are watching each other. This is in line with the themes in the show.

Production photograph by Charlie Flint

The initial monologues by both characters led to the realisation that they have issues with a capital I. Both grieving, and each having other circumstances in their lives that would have added to the emotional impact of this, they are seemingly flawed individuals, yet the understanding of their backstories and the interaction with the audience as they are talking makes you feel empathy that out in the real world would not necessarily be appropriate to their current behaviours, especially in the case of Jonah.

The set (Emily Bestow) is noticeably sparse when you take your seat, so much so that I wasn’t sure if any other props would appear, but it was in fact a very neat design, incorporating numerous storage areas for clothes and other items, and moving parts of the stage edge which became tables, a bed etc. Such a clever use of a relatively small space.

Production photograph by Charlie Flint

A bank of screens added sensory input, at times the video (Matt Powell) showing us what the characters were looking at, at others showing how Sophie was engaging with present events, such as depicting her tuning out of dull conversations by the screens gradually blurring. I particularly enjoyed this visual representation of zoning out, as well as the cameo appearance by the friendly local fox. The sound design (Sam Glossop) in addition added to the atmosphere, in a subtle way you almost don’t notice. Use of quiet effects at times also gave a level of suspense.

Abigail Thorn played Sophie; recently bereaved, freshly added work issues, socially incompetent, and feeling invisible as a result of all of those things, so when she makes a highly questionable choice, you kind of understand why she may have decided to do so. (“Kind of” being the important words here.)

Downstairs lodger Jonah was played with absolute precision by Joe Pitts. Seeming like a vulnerable “boy next door” type initially, it was not long before this facade gave way to more clarity about his personality which became increasingly disturbing as the plot unfolded. This slow reveal was superb. Pitts also shone in his portrayal of an HR manager, which was a brief appearance but brilliantly done.

Production photograph by Charlie Flint

I said at the start of this review that the play was described as a rom com but the full details made me suspect it would be more than that. It most certainly was. It was a hair’s breadth away from turning into a psychological thriller and it’s left me wondering what Jonah would do in the future once the play ended. That’s a sequel waiting to be written for sure. There’s an intelligence in this “neat tying up” at the end of the show, (which honestly really isn’t), alongside the skilled performances that leaves the imagination with the “what next” scenario.

Yes, there’s romance of a sort. There’s comedy, some of which is so dark you wonder why you are laughing even as you do, but I’m left with the sense that you could turn around and spot Jonah watching you at any time. This psychological impact is exquisite.

⭐⭐⭐⭐1/2

If you would like to see my curtain call photographs from this and other shows, please visit my Instagram.

Blink is showing at Kings Head Theatre until Sunday 22 March 2026. Click here to buy tickets.

I was gifted a ticket for this show in exchange for an honest review.